Bad Hair Day
by Aerle
Summary: When Thatch is about to close his hair salon early because of the heat, a last minute and rather desperate customer shows up. Hairdresser!AU


Written for the Sharethelovemonth day 22

Thanks MyLadyDay for beta'ing :D

Prompts: - things you said when you were crying, requested by MyLadyDay

\- "Rumor has it that you're a hairdresser with magic fingers and you can fix any bad hair day so that's why I'm here" AU

* * *

Thatch had done well in life, if he may say so himself. He was in his thirties, had his own hair salon, which was well known in the neighbourhood, and made an honest living. Sure, he wasn't a hair stylist of anyone famous, but Thatch was just as happy gossiping with the local women and, let's be honest, men.

Thatch had several hairdressers at his disposal, but he was the favourite of most of his clients. He had always had a knack of seeing what would or wouldn't look good on someone, whether it were colours, curls or bangs.

Also, it was said he had a gentle touch.

In all, Thatch was happy. He had friends who he loved to hang out with, a steady job, and his own apartment. The only thing he didn't have was someone to come home to.

Today, he was closing up by himself, as he had sent all his employees home early because of the heat. The air-conditioning wasn't working properly, and of course the repairman couldn't come until next week.

No one wanted to have their hair done in this weather, anyway.

He was just finishing the last things on the computer, when the bell above the store rang.

"I'm sorry, we're closed early–" Thatch started as he looked up, but then stopped midsentence.

His client was a man wearing sunglasses, a raincoat with the collar turned up and a shawl wrapped around his head, hiding his hair.

"I apologise for the inconvenience, but this is an emergency. I'll pay you double if you help me out," the man all but pleaded.

Thatch thought for a moment, but really, he hadn't anything better to do. No doubt it would be hot in his apartment as well, and his friends were all working or on holiday. "Alright," he said, and gestured to a chair. "What's the problem?"

Hesitantly, his client took off his sunglasses. Thatch was immediately struck by his beauty. Yet, somehow, his face looked familiar.

Well, Thatch figured, someone as gorgeous as that had to be a model or something.

The man slowly loosened the scarf around his head, but kept his hair hidden for a bit longer. "Look, this never leaves this salon, understood? It's too embarrassing."

Thatch shrugged. "I haven't have sworn a code of silence or anything, but you won't find out from me who has had what waxed or coloured."

Seemingly satisfied, the man removed the scarf and long, silky, black hair fell free. At first glance, Thatch couldn't see what was so bad about it, until his client turned round. It almost seemed like the edges were… smouldered.

"What happened?" he asked.

His client's bottom lip started to quiver, before he hid his face in his hands. "A-a friend of mine accidentally set it on fire! Don't ask," he added.

Thatch had trouble not to laugh. He should introduce Ace to this pyromanic friend. However, he knew hair could be a sensitive subject, so he managed to cover his snort with a cough.

"I know it's just hair, but…" His client sniffled.

"It's okay," Thatch said soothingly, and guided the man into the chair. "It's not too bad. I can definitely work with this."

The man sniffled and nodded, but Thatch could see he was relieved.

Thatch gently combed his fingers through the hair, as he always did when he was trying to figure out what to do, but it struck him how soft this man's hair was. He had worked with all types of hair – long, short, greasy, dry – but this was by far the most beautiful he had ever laid hands on.

He must have been caressing the man's hair for a couple of minutes, when his client said nervously, "Is it that bad after all?"

"Huh?" Thatch realised what he was doing and quickly grabbed a comb. "Oh, not at all! You have beautiful hair."

"Thank you."

Thatch caught a glimpse of a smile in the mirror and he felt his heart flutter.

He must have a heatstroke.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Would you like to have your hair washed?" he asked casually. He'd love to touch this hair some more. "Then I can see how damaged the ends really are. Unless you want me to cut it all off?"

"If possible, I'd like to keep it as long as possible," the man said and followed him to the washbasin.

Thatch felt if the water was at the right temperature, as his client shrugged off the raincoat. He must be dying of heat.

As Thatch washed the man's hair, and tried not to lose himself too much, he started a casual conversation. "So, are you a model or something? You look somewhat familiar," he said as he gently massaged the man's scalp.

The man hummed, which did weird things to Thatch's stomach. "Not a model, no."

"You could be," Thatch continued, rinsing the shampoo from the man's hair. "You're gorgeous, not to mention your hair. Perhaps you could try shampoo commercials?"

His client chuckled. "Perhaps."

"All I know, if someone as gorgeous as you recommended my shampoo line, it would fly off the shelves," Thatch continued. He really had to stop flirting so bluntly.

The man chuckled again. "Are you offering me the job?"

"Er…" Thatch hadn't really meant it that way, but it was true he still needed a model. He had only just started his own line. "Sure, if you want it."

"I'll think about it." The man hummed in appreciation when Thatch dried his hair firmly but gently. He then followed Thatch back to the other chair.

"I've heard good stories about you," he said as Thatch picked up a comb. "I'm really grateful you're willing to help me out."

"No problem. I don't have anything better to do."

 _Really smooth_ , he thought sarcastically, _now he'll think I don't have a life._ Not that he had one, but still…

The man just smiled.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence as Thatch worked his magic on the hair. Then his client said, "It's rather warm in here, or is it just me?"

Thatch bit his tongue not to say, "It's you", and said instead, "Yeah, the air-conditioning is broken. That's the reason I was gonna close up early. The repairman said he could only come next week, though, and considering this heat wave will continue until then…" He sighed as he carefully cut the tips of the man's hair.

"Perhaps I can help you with that," his client said thoughtfully. "Well, not me, personally. I know nothing about electronics," the man continued. "But a friend of mine does. I'm sure he would be happy to help you."

"Really? That would be great, thank you." Thatch smiled as he took a step back to admire his work. "What do you think?" He took the hand mirror and showed his client the back of his hair.

"Oh my, you really are a miracle worker!" The man leaned closer to the mirror in front of him and played with his hair as if he couldn't believe it was there. "I was afraid I had to cut it all off, but… You really are amazing!"

Thatch scratched the back of his head embarrassedly. "Well, I'm just glad you like it."

"No, you don't understand! You have really saved my life. Or at least my career." The man turned around in his chair. "I couldn't go on stage like that!"

"Stage?" Suddenly, it hit him. "Oi, you're the famous actor, Izo!" How could he have been so stupid not to recognise him? Oh, and he had casually asked him to do a commercial for him. Thatch felt the urge to slap himself against the forehead. As if a famous actor like Izo would actually consider doing something like that for a small business like his!

The man, Izo, smiled.

"But don't you have your own hairdresser?" Thatch asked confusedly. "Since you're famous and all."

"I did, but I had to fire her. She managed to make the burn worse!" Izo sighed. "I don't really blame my friend, since it was an accident, but my hairdresser was supposed to be a professional. But then someone told me about you and…" Izo looked at the mirror again, touching his hair again. "I didn't think it could be saved anymore."

"Heh. Well, I like a challenge." Thatch dusted the remains of hair from Izo and afterwards, took the gown protecting Izo's clothes off.

Izo followed him to the counter to pay. Of course, Thatch wasn't actually charging the double amount. It was his job to cut hair after all.

Izo seemed surprised, though. "You know I'm famous and therefore have enough money."

"I'm not gonna take advantage of that," Thatch said a little indignantly.

Izo smiled a little. "Alright. But I'd like a bottle of your shampoo as well."

Slightly confused, Thatch grabbed the one he thought would be most suitable for Izo's hair and added the price to the total.

"I'll have to get to know the product before I can recommend it, after all," Izo said with a smile as he put away the bottle.

Thatch gaped at him. "Are you seriously considering that? I just suggested it, really! I'm sure you have better stuff to do."

Izo just smiled at him, causing Thatch to stutter the total amount. When Izo had paid, he turned to leave, but at the door, he turned around. "If you were serious about not having anything to do, you could come to my play." From his bag, he retrieved a ticket.

"I couldn't take that," Thatch protested.

"I insist. Well, if you want to, of course." Izo placed the ticket on a table. "Perhaps I'll see you tonight then."

"Y-yeah," Thatch mumbled as he watched Izo leave.

He had been flirting with a famous actor, that was new. Especially since said actor hadn't seemed quite opposed to it…

Thatch picked up the ticket. He never really got round to going to plays, so this was an excellent opportunity. Besides, if Izo was in it, it had to be good. He remembered seeing advertisements about it; apparently, it had gotten great reviews.

He closed the salon and went for a bite to eat. He still had to go home and change, he could hardly show up in the work clothes, after all.

* * *

With tears in his eyes, Thatch rose to applaud. The play had been absolutely fantastic, and Izo had been the star of the show.

The actors on stage bowed, and he could see Izo's eyes scanning the crowd, but he fought the urge to wave. Izo had probably invited people he knew better than some hairdresser.

He debated whether or not to drink something afterwards in the bar of the theatre, though that struggle didn't really take long. After all, there was a chance he would see Izo again when he was done changing.

He ordered a beer as he thought about the play. It had been a drama and very sad. He almost teared up again thinking about Izo's performance in his death scene.

"Thatch?" a familiar voice said.

Thatch hastily wiped his eyes as he turned around. Behind him, Marco and Ace were standing.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.

Ace smiled sheepishly. "Well, I felt bad 'cause I accidentally set the hair of one of the actors on fire…"

"Wait, you're Izo's pyromanic friend?" Thatch exclaimed.

Ace looked at him confusedly. "Yeah, you know him too?"

"He came into my hair salon today."

Marco let out a chuckle.

"You knew this!" Ace called out accusingly. "How?"

"Izo asked if I knew a talented hairdresser. I recommended Thatch. Didn't you say you wanted to set them up?" Marco asked.

"Well, yeah, but–"

"Wait a minute!" Thatch interrupted. "Who's been set up?"

Ace laughed. "Well, you were both complaining about being single. So I wanted to set you up on a blind date. Seems like Marco was one step ahead of me." He pouted.

Thatch felt his cheeks heat up. He couldn't deny he had been flirting with Izo, but that was before he knew Izo was a famous actor!

"I was totally right, though," Ace continued with a smirk. "You're totally crushing on him."

"Am not!" Thatch countered like the adult he was.

"So, you don't wanna go backstage then?"

Thatch's eyes widened. "Y-you can do that?"

"Sure, we hang out more often after the show. In Izo's dressing room," Ace added for good measure. "Where he dresses, _and_ undresses." He wiggled suggestively with his eyebrows.

Thatch pretended he didn't flush bright red and murmured something about wanting to see if Izo's hair had stayed in shape.

Fortunately, Ace accepted that without too much teasing and showed Thatch the way along with Marco.

Izo's name was on the door, so it was easy to find. When Ace knocked, Izo called him to enter.

Izo was changing behind a screen as they came into the room, as a piece of clothing was slung over it. "So, how did you like the play?" he asked teasingly.

Ace elbowed Thatch in the ribs.

Thatch cleared his throat and said, "It was really amazing."

It stayed silent behind the screen for a bit, until Izo stuck his head around it. He smiled at seeing Thatch. "You came! I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"He was crying," Ace felt the need to mention.

"Shut up," Thatch huffed.

Izo pulled his head back behind the screen, but Thatch could hear him chuckle. A few minutes later, Izo appeared again, clad in simple attire.

"When Marco suggested I should go to you because of my hair," he shot a dirty look at Ace, who held up his hands in defence, "I didn't expect you to be friends."

"I didn't expect you to know each other either," Thatch said.

"Speaking of friends, here's my friend's card. The one I told you about to fix your air-conditioning? I've asked him, and he's happy to help you out." Izo produced a business card from somewhere and handed it to Thatch.

"You've asked Rakuyo?" Ace asked.

When Izo nodded, Thatch shook his head. "Why do you know everyone?"

Ace smirked and shrugged.

"Speaking of knowing…" Marco said and rose from the couch he was sitting on.

"Oh, right!" Ace grabbed his hand and followed his example. "We have to go do that thing."

"What thing?" Izo asked confusedly.

"The thing for which we have to leave now, bye!" Ace called over his shoulder as he hastily pushed a snickering Marco out of the dressing room, leaving Thatch and Izo stunned behind.

Izo sighed and shook his head as he rose. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah, sure." Thatch couldn't say he wasn't surprised when Izo took out a bottle of wine and two glasses. "You always keep that here?"

"A gift from a fan," Izo said with a shrug. "Would you prefer something else?" When Thatch shook his head, Izo took the two glasses and handed him one as he sat down next to him on the couch. It felt… cosy.

"Y'know, I don't think Marco and Ace really had to go anywhere," Thatch said as he took a sip.

"Why's that?"

"Apparently, they were trying to set us up on a date," Thatch continued. "That's the only reason Marco sent you to me."

"I doubt that. Not everyone could have done with my hair what you did," Izo said with a smile. "But a date, huh? How would that go?"

"Well," Thatch said musing, "I'd think that you would be all charming, and I would only recognise you when you spell it out for me."

"You wanna know what I think?" Izo moved on the couch, sitting closer than strictly necessary. Thatch had to tilt his head a little to look at him.

"I think," Izo continued, "that you would comfort me when I was upset, treat me like I'm a person, even offer me a job. And I think that you have _very_ talented fingers…"

Izo had been leaning in while he talked, his last words barely more than a breathy whisper. Thatch did nothing to stop him as he moved even closer and pressed his lips against Thatch's.

Thatch wrapped his arms around Izo to keep him close, as Izo's fingers intertwined with his hair.

Izo hummed as he pulled back. "You have really nice hair as well. Perhaps you should be your own model?"

"Maybe." Thatch brushed a strand of hair out of Izo's face. "But I already offered the job to someone else. I still have had no answer, though."

"How about this," Izo nuzzled into his hair, "I'll take your job offer, if you'll take mine."

"What job offer?" Thatch asked confusedly.

Izo smirked, though Thatch felt rather than saw it. "The position of my personal hairdresser is still vacant. Of course, you won't have to give up your salon or clients."

"And play with your hair all day? That sure sounds tempting," Thatch said mock-thoughtful.

"You don't seem convinced of all the advantages this job has to offer." Izo moved so he was straddling Thatch. "It would seem I have to persuade you, somehow."

As Izo kissed him again, Thatch couldn't help but think that perhaps today had been a very good hair day.


End file.
